Chapter 1: Avada Kedavra

Euphemia Iris Potter could be called, plainly and simply, an idiot.

She couldn't exactly help it though. The process of reincarnation was supposed to be vexing enough to scramble one's brains. The fact that she still had a few marbles left was considered a win for her.

Actually, she was just thankful enough to be alive that she didn't question her reality.

She didn't question it when she found out her new parents had powers.

She didn't question it when her uncle turned into a dog to entertain them.

She didn't even question it when she had found out that the beautiful red-haired lady whom she called Mama was Lily and the messy haired man with warm eyes was called James. Though the fact the little tyke she shared her magical crib with was called Harry worried her a bit, but she brushed it off.

Life was good.

(Until one day, it wasn't.)

It wasn't until she saw her Mama scream and beg and then just drop to ground like a puppet with strings cut that the facts slowly settled in.

She stared, wide-eyed from her cot, as the woman bravely faced a sickly green light, all the while begging the man not to hurt them.

It wasn't until that same madman (he killed Mama, he killed Mama, HekilleDMAma destroyHiM-) pointed his wand at her kid brother that she broke.

Oh, she thought numbly. Voldemort still has a nose.

(She was angry, she was devastated, she was fucking pissed that someone had the gall to harm her FAMILY and was now pointing his wand at her BROTHER and she will destroy him she swore-)

Her magic, to which she was already overly sensitive, rose to respond to her owner's rage and sorrow. It lashed out, destroying everything in its path. It was as if a mini tornado was created in the room itself.

A vase smashed into a hastily erected shield. Snake-face had conjured it at the last moment, the object coming too close to his face for his comfort. It was immediately followed by a small dresser and a chair.

Cold, clinical eyes landed on her, ripping her entire existence apart with a single glance. His lips formed into a mockery of grin as he spoke.

"So much killing intent in one so young. Amusing."

All at once the tornado stopped. Her eyes drooped as magical exhaustion set in. The intensive scrutiny didn't make things any better.

Why didn't she notice before? Why did she turn a blind eye to all the hints? She could have done something, anything.

(She was as guilty as a certain madman in her parents' death.)

She looked up, but didn't meet his eyes.

"Interesting," he hissed. "It almost seems like you understand."

He then pointed his wand at her and all she saw was red.

She didn't wake up until the next morning at her last family member's unholy screech.

Xxxxxx

Euphemia stared at the thin woman in front of her, accompanied by her beloved aunt.

She giggled happily and to maximize her cuteness, she held a hand out.

"Hello! It's nice to meet you."

Or at least that's what she wanted to say, but it came out more like, "Hewwo! Si night two meeth yu." Then she prodded her brother, who was conveniently hiding behind her to do the same.

Harry smiled shyly and echoed her greetings.

Beside her Dudley sucked on his thumbs, looking grumpy.

The stranger lady stared at the lot for a few moments before squealing, "Oh Petunia, they are so adorable! And so well-behaved too." She directed a beaming smile towards the addressed woman. Patting her own baby bump, she added wistfully, "Hope I can teach them as good as you did."

Petunia's face somehow turned into a mixture of proud and constipated. "Of course, Mary, the children reflects their upbringing." She turned to the children, "You can go play now."

They were currently seated (and standing, in their case) in the well-furnished, too clean drawing room of the Dursleys. An assortment of snacks and tea were placed on the circular glass table, which currently was ignored in favour of the kids. Their current guest, Mrs. Mary Wilson, the next-to next door neighbour had come for tea. The heavily pregnant woman was nearing her due date, she noted critically. Must be a couple of weeks before the baby is born.

She nodded enthusiastically at her aunt, followed by a "Yes, Aunt Tuney!" (which was followed by another round of giggling from the brunette lady). She pulled the two boys with her, "Let's go!"

She would be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy the minute flinch in her aunt's expression everytime she called her Tuney. After all, saying it at the right pitch and tone took a lot of trials and error. She liked to see the results of her super secret night practice.

After all, why not use the advantage of having her Mama's hair and face?

Dudley was still grumpy, as any kind of physical exertion made him so, but she still didn't relent.

"I'll give you my portion of dessert if you play with us," she whispered to him as soon as she was out of Petunia's hearing range.

The boy became visibly more enthusiastic after that.

Xxxxxxx

It was dark outside, the only hints of illumination being the beautiful, tall streetlamps with a warm golden glow. They were much less brighter than the ones she remembered from her previous life. That kind of made her happy though, it increased the mystic appeal of the otherwise bland neighbourhood. The only other source of light was the Smiths, the head of the family being a teacher. He continued to grade the papers well after everyone in the street was asleep.

Euphemia breathed a sigh of relief as the light finally went out. She focused on her magic, willing it to make her hearing clearer. She had found out that her magic was quite malleable. Whether it was because she knew about it or because she could feel it, was beyond her. She needed more information, information which she wouldn't get till she was eleven. Also, intention fueled a lot of it.

The sounds around her came to a sharper resolution. The chirping of the crickets, the hooting of the owl, the distant barking of dogs and mist importantly, the soft snoring of her so-called family. Though Vernon's was anything but soft, but she digressed.

"They are asleep," murmured Harry next to her.

She nodded, perfectly aware that he wouldn't be able see it. Harry felt it though.

Just like she felt him turn towards her. "Tell me more?"

The anticipation and slight tremor in his voice made her heart clench. No one should have to go through their childhood with only their twin's stories to remember their parents.

But she had vowed. Swore that this time around, Harry Potter wouldn't grow up to be a lost little innocent kid, so starved for affection that he would give up his life so, so easily. That he wouldn't be so devoid of self-love that he wouldn't hesitate even after knowing that he was brought up as a sacrificial lamb.

She promised and she always kept her promises.

And to make them come true, if she had to become a devious little manipulator? Well, she had always wanted to meet the Devil. (And ask him how he felt about free will and stuff. Hypothetically, of course.)

It had been a little five months since the brutal murder of the Potters and liberation (hah!) of the wizarding world. She still remembered the scream of her aunt as she picked up a delivery of two babies, no notice given, please and thank you. That had woken her up from her nap. Harry was still sleeping.

Thoughts had flown through her little head at the speed of light. And she she had come to a hasty, but true conclusion.

She needed the Dursleys on her side.

She cackled internally. Let's start with Petunia, shall we?

Euphemia Iris Potter smiled at Petunia Dursleys nee Evans.

It was the same little smile Lily used to give them, eyes slightly closed, the lips held together so as to not burst out laughing, head tilted to the side. She could feel the older woman bodily freeze.

And then Harry opened his brilliant green eyes.

Petunia hesitated before picking them up, her lips quivering, hands shaking. She was a little worried that she would meet an untimely second death through fall, but then the woman calmed down.

Euphemia realized the reason a little later as Vernon came bustling in and turned red at their sight.

He pointed a shaking, fat finger towards them. "What are those?" To be honest, she found the fact that he could actually turn purple comical and just a little gross.

"It seems my no-good sister has managed to get herself killed." She answered, voice icy. All signs of her momentary weakness were gone. "We have to take care of them now, Vernon."

It was a miracle that the man didn't burst. His fat flippers still shaking, he shouted, "Why?"

"The neighbours are watching." Petunia said, glancing to her left as she saw silhouettes in the windows of the nearby houses.

Vernon had tried to calm down at that, tried being the keyword. The door was shut, milk and egg delivery forgotten as the couple went in to discuss their new-found headache.

But she hadn't missed two things.

One, Petunia's reaction to her Lily-esque smile.

Two, the sleight of hand she had performed to hide Dumbledore's letter from Vernon.

She smiled again behind their backs, this time more sinister.

She was so going to use her Mama's looks.

Beside her, Harry started crying.

Xxxxx

Author's notes: A complete wish fulfilment story, which I realize is not the cup of tea for everyone. The OC will start out as me, changing and evolving according to the circumstances.

Also, updates will be irregular, but I have NOT abandoned Crossroads and Out of Joints.

Would love to hear your thoughts regarding this.

Thanks and bye.